BRUDENHALL, Bertram
| Service Number: | 875 |
|---|---|
| Enlisted: | Not yet discovered |
| Last Rank: | Private |
| Last Unit: | 8th Infantry Battalion |
| Born: | Not yet discovered |
| Home Town: | Not yet discovered |
| Schooling: | Not yet discovered |
| Occupation: | Not yet discovered |
| Memorials: | Hamilton Borough of Hamilton Roll of Honour |
World War 1 Service
| 19 Oct 1914: | Involvement Private, 875, 8th Infantry Battalion, --- :embarkation_roll: roll_number: '9' embarkation_place: Melbourne embarkation_ship: HMAT Benalla embarkation_ship_number: A24 public_note: '' | |
|---|---|---|
| 19 Oct 1914: | Embarked Private, 875, 8th Infantry Battalion, HMAT Benalla, Melbourne |
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Bertram Alan Brudenell
From: Ballarat & District in the Great War
When a child has a tough start to life their future is coloured by a multitude of experiences, opportunities, and choices; and the outcome is often determined by luck. Bert Brudenell was one of the fortunate ones who in losing virtually everything, succeeded due to the intervention of a fine doctor who became one of Australia’s first noted psychiatrists.
When Bertram Alan Brudenell was born at Ballarat on 18 May 1893, the family was living in Dawson Street north. His father, William Brudenell, worked for local stock and station agents, Coghlan and Naples, whilst his mother, Mary Ann King, looked after their six children, of whom Bertie was the youngest.
Life changed dramatically for the small boy when he was just ten months old. The death of his 43 year-old father on 1 March 1894 was a dramatic loss for the entire Brudenell family.
The grief was compounded when, almost exactly a year later to the day, the second eldest of Mary’s children, 15 year-old William, died after being thrown from his horse. He was ‘always steady and well-behaved’ and would, no doubt, have been his mother’s main support.
It seems that her financial difficulties were considerable. In May 1897, she defaulted on a lease of property at Clarendon that she held in partnership with her sister-in-law, Mrs Catherine Copperwaite.
The stress was apparently too much for Mary, and she was admitted to the Ballarat Lunatic Asylum on 25 March 1998. Bertie was not quite 5 years-old at the time.
The little boy was placed into care at the Ballarat Orphanage. Despite the heartbreak this all entailed, it seems the young lad thrived. In December 1904, Bertie was awarded 2nd Prize as Best Garden Boy in middle school. The following year he gained 1st Prize as Best Farm Boy. His successes with animals would lead to his first job and a connection with an enigmatic Irish doctor.
Paul Greig Dane had come to Ballarat to set up practice shortly after marrying in December 1910. He was born in Belfast, Ireland, on 21 January 1881, and arrived in Australia with his family when he was still very young. He studied medicine at the University of Melbourne, before graduating in 1905.
In 1911, Bert Brudenell began working as a groom for Paul Dane. He would drive the doctor to cases and care for the horse kept at the rear of the property at 28 Victoria Street, Ballarat East. Bert also lived on the premises.
A nasty accident on 12 February 1912, must have had a deep impact on both Bert and his employer. Bert was driving the doctor’s gig along Armstrong Street, when a 10 year-old lad, named Maurice Hind, who was riding downhill on a wobbly bicycle, veered onto the wrong side of the road and collided with the side of the gig.
Initially, Doctor Dane believed the boy was miraculously unhurt. However, it seems that the wheel of the gig actually went over the boy causing internally injuries. At an inquest it was confirmed that Bert had done everything possible to avoid the collision. The death would have been tragic for all involved. No doubt, Paul Dane felt a protective bond towards his young groom.
When, inexplicably, Bert stole from his employer, the case made the local newspapers and could have ended the young man’s future. On 20 August 1913, he was arrested for stealing the practice cash box, which contained money and cheques that amounted to £24/10. The detectives discovered the box buried in the yard; it still contained £18. Bert immediately admitted to the theft, but at no time was there any indication as to why he had committed the crime.
In court, the 20 year-old appeared respectfully and well-dressed. He was found guilty and was facing six months imprisonment, when Paul Dane spoke up for him. He gave evidence as to the young man’s previous good character, and testified that Bert had already worked off the missing money. But it was Dane’s willingness to take him back as his groom if he was given another chance, that seems to have swayed the judge in his final ruling. Bert was placed on a bond of £25, and 12-months’ probation.
Dane’s faith in Bert Brudenell was proved to be well founded.
Switching from a horse-drawn vehicle to a motorcar, Dane gave Bert the opportunity to study mechanics while continuing to work as his chauffeur.
The young man also began to develop a particularly fine classical singing voice. He worshipped at St Paul’s Church of England, Bakery Hill, alongside Paul and Ruth Dane, where it is likely that his voice first drew favourable attention.
At the outbreak of war, Bert, although having no military training, was one of the earliest to volunteer. He enlisted at Ballarat on 27 August 1914. Doctor A. B. Campbell conducted his medical examination, describing the new recruit as being of 5-feet 7½-inches in height, weighing 11-stone 9-pounds and having a chest that measured 35 to 38½-inches, with a dark complexion, blue eyes and black-brown hair. He also noted that Bert had a large scar across the lumbar area of his back, but there was no indication as to what had caused the damage.
Possibly the saddest aspect of his enlistment was that Bert named his older brother, Frank, who lived in Hamilton, as his next-of-kin. There was no mention of their mother.
Upon passing his medical, Bert was immediately assigned to Ballarat’s 8th Infantry Battalion under Colonel William Bolton. He was posted to H Company when he arrived at the Broadmeadows Camp.
When the First Contingent sailed from Port Melbourne on 19 October, the 8th Battalion was onboard HMAT Benalla and Bert was listed with the unit’s headquarters.
After being diverted to Egypt following Turkey’s entry into the war, the Australian troops quickly settled into a steady life of training and sightseeing in an around Cairo. Defence of the Suez Canal became a pivotal time during this early stage of war, and the 8th Battalion was central to manoeuvres in this area.
Troop movements in preparation for the landing at Gallipoli began in early April 1915. The 8th Battalion sailed on the Clan MacGillivray from Alexandria on 5 April, however, it is unclear if Bert Brudenell was with them. Frustrating gaps in his service record indicates a second embarkation on 14 June onboard the troopship Southland, but there are no entries in between. He may well have been taken out of the line when Captain Campbell Dobbie, of B Company, to whom he had been appointed batman, was evacuated back to Alexandria suffering from illness.
It is apparent that Bert was well aware that his former employer – who was now referred to as his guardian – had enlisted and was on his way to Egypt as a major with the 6th Field Ambulance. He approached Major Vernon Whitehead with a letter from Dane requesting a transfer for Bert to the 6th AFA. Whilst Whitehead approved the application, the transfer inexplicably did not go through.
Bert had only been back in the trenches at ANZAC a matter of days when he was involved in a devastating accident.
It was nearly dark on the evening of 25 July. Several men were sitting in the trench, quietly tending to the now daily rituals and getting ready for bed. Bert was talking to Norman Warwick, as he cleaned his rifle. Tom Kelly and Frank Ebsary were nearby.
The men were all shocked when a shot rang out and Bert Brudenell collapsed backwards with a bullet wound to his lower leg. Ebsary was the first to attend to Bert – removing the young man’s boot, and holding his leg still. Kelly immediately asked, “What have you done, Tunna?” Bert replied, “I have shot myself through the leg, I didn’t know the thing was loaded.”
When Bert’s rifle was checked, it was found to have 6 or 7 rounds in the magazine and an empty shell in the chamber. The cut-off was closed.
A Court of Enquiry was held on 29 August, and several witnesses were called to give evidence. The concern was that the young soldier had shot himself deliberately to be removed from the frontline. Several witnesses said there was no cleaning kit about, just an oily rag. They confirmed that Bert usually cleaned his rifle at the same time every day.
The medical orderly who attended to the wound, stated, ‘…He had his boot off. It was taken off by one of the signallers. I cut his sock off and found he had a gunshot wound in left ankle. I applied first aid and stretcher bearers carried him away to hospital…[he] did not appear to suffer at all from shock…[and] said, “It was a damn foolish thing to do that I did not know it was loaded…’
Captain Dobbie was asked if he knew ‘whether he was anxious to get away from here?’ He could only say that he was aware of Bert’s transfer request.
Frank Ebsary stated that he believed Bert was ‘of a nervous disposition.’
The Court, however, came back with the finding that the accident was due to Bert Brudenell’s own carelessness. It was a moment of carelessness that would affect the rest of his life.
After Bert had been carried out by the stretcher-bearers, he was admitted to the No1 Casualty Clearing Station on the beach at ANZAC. The medical officer recorded a self-inflicted bullet wound to his left leg – through his ankle and exiting the outer side of his foot. He was transferred to the Hospital Ship Somali for evacuation to Malta.
He was admitted to the Floriana Hospital on 31 July suffering a ‘complicated comminuted fracture of the left foot’. The bones of his ankle and lower leg were shattered and beyond repair. As a result, on 2 August, Bert underwent an operation to amputate his left leg below the knee.
At that time the military had a penchant for understatement when it came to informing families of casualties suffered by their loved ones. As a result, Frank Brudenell was informed that Bert had been ‘wounded accidentally not reported seriously’.
In September, Bert was transferred to England for further treatment, recuperation and rehabilitation. He was admitted to the City of London War Hospital on 15 September.
Bert was progressing well, when, on 25 November, he began to suffer severe nerve pain over the end of the healed stump. A second operation was performed and it was found that a nerve had become adhered to the flap. The surgeon cut the nerve short and reclosed the wound.
After more than five months in general hospital, Bert was transferred to the 1st Australian Auxiliary Hospital at Harefield Park on 31 December 1915. During his time there he was to be fitted with a wooden leg – most likely at the Roehampton Hospital, which had been set up specifically for the fitting of prosthetic limbs for soldiers.
On 17 March 1916, Bert sailed home to Australia. As fortune (or the lack thereof) would have it, Paul Dane had also been evacuated to England after contracting dysentery at Gallipoli. He had returned to Australia only a month earlier.
Upon arriving in Melbourne on 30 April, Bert joined Paul and Ruth Dane with their children at a large boarding house on the The Strand in Williamstown. He was discharged from the AIF on 9 August 1916, but not before signing a waiver to release the Defence Department from any further payment other than a military pension. This pension, of £3 per fortnight, was granted immediately.
There were a number of communications from Bert’s family trying to find news of him, but it seems that he had not attempted to contact them. It was confirmed by them, however, that their mother was, by August 1918, deceased.
For the remainder of the war, Bert toured with a Returned Soldiers Concert Party raising funds for the YMCA. He ‘…proved to be the possessor of a nice tenor voice, and when he gave 'Mary of Argyle' in response to an encore, the applause was very loud and continuous…’
The concert entertainment was seen as a novel one, representing a battlefield dug-out with the Party round a campfire. Each man, all bearing their battle-scars, indicated their battalion to loud ap-plause. As the curtain went up the soldiers sang the opening chorus of “Keep the Home Fires Burn-ing.” There wouldn’t have been a dry eye in the house.
By 1921, Bert was gaining prominence in musical circles, singing everything from sentimental ballads to opera.
During the years from 1922 to 1925, Bert lived at 193 Royal Parade in Parkville. He was said to be studying medicine and gave his occupation simply as student. He continued to sing, eventually becoming a regular singing on the 3LO radio station. This was to become his full-time occupation for the years leading up to the Second World War.
On 7 July 1941, Bert enlisted for a second time. He served as a Warrant Officer (1st Class) with the Land Headquarters. Showing the continued connection between Bert Brudenell and Paul Dane, the doctor was named as his next-of-kin.
Bert had established a long-standing connection to the University Cricket Club – he became secretary in 1939, a position he held for the rest of his life. He became a delegate to the Victorian Cricket Association in 1945, and was also secretary to the University Football Club.
By this time, Bert’s long-time mentor and friend, Paul Dane, had become one of Melbourne’s leading psychiatrists. He was one of the pioneers of psychological treatment in Australia and was instrumental in the founding of the Melbourne Institute for training psycho-analysts – the only centre of its kind in Australia. He focussed most of his work on the veterans of both World Wars.
Sadly, this remarkable man, who had served his community all his life, and who believed in second chances, died from stomach cancer on 6 October 1950.
Just over three years later, after suffering an undisclosed illness, Bert Brudenell died at the Royal Melbourne Hospital on 24 January 1954. He was just 60 years old.
Submitted 15 July 2019 by Evan Evans
From: Ballarat & District in the Great War
When a child has a tough start to life their future is coloured by a multitude of experiences, opportunities, and choices; and the outcome is often determined by luck. Bert Brudenell was one of the fortunate ones who in losing virtually everything, succeeded due to the intervention of a fine doctor who became one of Australia’s first noted psychiatrists.
When Bertram Alan Brudenell was born at Ballarat on 18 May 1893, the family was living in Dawson Street north. His father, William Brudenell, worked for local stock and station agents, Coghlan and Naples, whilst his mother, Mary Ann King, looked after their six children, of whom Bertie was the youngest.
Life changed dramatically for the small boy when he was just ten months old. The death of his 43 year-old father on 1 March 1894 was a dramatic loss for the entire Brudenell family.
The grief was compounded when, almost exactly a year later to the day, the second eldest of Mary’s children, 15 year-old William, died after being thrown from his horse. He was ‘always steady and well-behaved’ and would, no doubt, have been his mother’s main support.
It seems that her financial difficulties were considerable. In May 1897, she defaulted on a lease of property at Clarendon that she held in partnership with her sister-in-law, Mrs Catherine Copperwaite.
The stress was apparently too much for Mary, and she was admitted to the Ballarat Lunatic Asylum on 25 March 1998. Bertie was not quite 5 years-old at the time.
The little boy was placed into care at the Ballarat Orphanage. Despite the heartbreak this all entailed, it seems the young lad thrived. In December 1904, Bertie was awarded 2nd Prize as Best Garden Boy in middle school. The following year he gained 1st Prize as Best Farm Boy. His successes with animals would lead to his first job and a connection with an enigmatic Irish doctor.
Paul Greig Dane had come to Ballarat to set up practice shortly after marrying in December 1910. He was born in Belfast, Ireland, on 21 January 1881, and arrived in Australia with his family when he was still very young. He studied medicine at the University of Melbourne, before graduating in 1905.
In 1911, Bert Brudenell began working as a groom for Paul Dane. He would drive the doctor to cases and care for the horse kept at the rear of the property at 28 Victoria Street, Ballarat East. Bert also lived on the premises.
A nasty accident on 12 February 1912, must have had a deep impact on both Bert and his employer. Bert was driving the doctor’s gig along Armstrong Street, when a 10 year-old lad, named Maurice Hind, who was riding downhill on a wobbly bicycle, veered onto the wrong side of the road and collided with the side of the gig.
Initially, Doctor Dane believed the boy was miraculously unhurt. However, it seems that the wheel of the gig actually went over the boy causing internally injuries. At an inquest it was confirmed that Bert had done everything possible to avoid the collision. The death would have been tragic for all involved. No doubt, Paul Dane felt a protective bond towards his young groom.
When, inexplicably, Bert stole from his employer, the case made the local newspapers and could have ended the young man’s future. On 20 August 1913, he was arrested for stealing the practice cash box, which contained money and cheques that amounted to £24/10. The detectives discovered the box buried in the yard; it still contained £18. Bert immediately admitted to the theft, but at no time was there any indication as to why he had committed the crime.
In court, the 20 year-old appeared respectfully and well-dressed. He was found guilty and was facing six months imprisonment, when Paul Dane spoke up for him. He gave evidence as to the young man’s previous good character, and testified that Bert had already worked off the missing money. But it was Dane’s willingness to take him back as his groom if he was given another chance, that seems to have swayed the judge in his final ruling. Bert was placed on a bond of £25, and 12-months’ probation.
Dane’s faith in Bert Brudenell was proved to be well founded.
Switching from a horse-drawn vehicle to a motorcar, Dane gave Bert the opportunity to study mechanics while continuing to work as his chauffeur.
The young man also began to develop a particularly fine classical singing voice. He worshipped at St Paul’s Church of England, Bakery Hill, alongside Paul and Ruth Dane, where it is likely that his voice first drew favourable attention.
At the outbreak of war, Bert, although having no military training, was one of the earliest to volunteer. He enlisted at Ballarat on 27 August 1914. Doctor A. B. Campbell conducted his medical examination, describing the new recruit as being of 5-feet 7½-inches in height, weighing 11-stone 9-pounds and having a chest that measured 35 to 38½-inches, with a dark complexion, blue eyes and black-brown hair. He also noted that Bert had a large scar across the lumbar area of his back, but there was no indication as to what had caused the damage.
Possibly the saddest aspect of his enlistment was that Bert named his older brother, Frank, who lived in Hamilton, as his next-of-kin. There was no mention of their mother.
Upon passing his medical, Bert was immediately assigned to Ballarat’s 8th Infantry Battalion under Colonel William Bolton. He was posted to H Company when he arrived at the Broadmeadows Camp.
When the First Contingent sailed from Port Melbourne on 19 October, the 8th Battalion was onboard HMAT Benalla and Bert was listed with the unit’s headquarters.
After being diverted to Egypt following Turkey’s entry into the war, the Australian troops quickly settled into a steady life of training and sightseeing in an around Cairo. Defence of the Suez Canal became a pivotal time during this early stage of war, and the 8th Battalion was central to manoeuvres in this area.
Troop movements in preparation for the landing at Gallipoli began in early April 1915. The 8th Battalion sailed on the Clan MacGillivray from Alexandria on 5 April, however, it is unclear if Bert Brudenell was with them. Frustrating gaps in his service record indicates a second embarkation on 14 June onboard the troopship Southland, but there are no entries in between. He may well have been taken out of the line when Captain Campbell Dobbie, of B Company, to whom he had been appointed batman, was evacuated back to Alexandria suffering from illness.
It is apparent that Bert was well aware that his former employer – who was now referred to as his guardian – had enlisted and was on his way to Egypt as a major with the 6th Field Ambulance. He approached Major Vernon Whitehead with a letter from Dane requesting a transfer for Bert to the 6th AFA. Whilst Whitehead approved the application, the transfer inexplicably did not go through.
Bert had only been back in the trenches at ANZAC a matter of days when he was involved in a devastating accident.
It was nearly dark on the evening of 25 July. Several men were sitting in the trench, quietly tending to the now daily rituals and getting ready for bed. Bert was talking to Norman Warwick, as he cleaned his rifle. Tom Kelly and Frank Ebsary were nearby.
The men were all shocked when a shot rang out and Bert Brudenell collapsed backwards with a bullet wound to his lower leg. Ebsary was the first to attend to Bert – removing the young man’s boot, and holding his leg still. Kelly immediately asked, “What have you done, Tunna?” Bert replied, “I have shot myself through the leg, I didn’t know the thing was loaded.”
When Bert’s rifle was checked, it was found to have 6 or 7 rounds in the magazine and an empty shell in the chamber. The cut-off was closed.
A Court of Enquiry was held on 29 August, and several witnesses were called to give evidence. The concern was that the young soldier had shot himself deliberately to be removed from the frontline. Several witnesses said there was no cleaning kit about, just an oily rag. They confirmed that Bert usually cleaned his rifle at the same time every day.
The medical orderly who attended to the wound, stated, ‘…He had his boot off. It was taken off by one of the signallers. I cut his sock off and found he had a gunshot wound in left ankle. I applied first aid and stretcher bearers carried him away to hospital…[he] did not appear to suffer at all from shock…[and] said, “It was a damn foolish thing to do that I did not know it was loaded…’
Captain Dobbie was asked if he knew ‘whether he was anxious to get away from here?’ He could only say that he was aware of Bert’s transfer request.
Frank Ebsary stated that he believed Bert was ‘of a nervous disposition.’
The Court, however, came back with the finding that the accident was due to Bert Brudenell’s own carelessness. It was a moment of carelessness that would affect the rest of his life.
After Bert had been carried out by the stretcher-bearers, he was admitted to the No1 Casualty Clearing Station on the beach at ANZAC. The medical officer recorded a self-inflicted bullet wound to his left leg – through his ankle and exiting the outer side of his foot. He was transferred to the Hospital Ship Somali for evacuation to Malta.
He was admitted to the Floriana Hospital on 31 July suffering a ‘complicated comminuted fracture of the left foot’. The bones of his ankle and lower leg were shattered and beyond repair. As a result, on 2 August, Bert underwent an operation to amputate his left leg below the knee.
At that time the military had a penchant for understatement when it came to informing families of casualties suffered by their loved ones. As a result, Frank Brudenell was informed that Bert had been ‘wounded accidentally not reported seriously’.
In September, Bert was transferred to England for further treatment, recuperation and rehabilitation. He was admitted to the City of London War Hospital on 15 September.
Bert was progressing well, when, on 25 November, he began to suffer severe nerve pain over the end of the healed stump. A second operation was performed and it was found that a nerve had become adhered to the flap. The surgeon cut the nerve short and reclosed the wound.
After more than five months in general hospital, Bert was transferred to the 1st Australian Auxiliary Hospital at Harefield Park on 31 December 1915. During his time there he was to be fitted with a wooden leg – most likely at the Roehampton Hospital, which had been set up specifically for the fitting of prosthetic limbs for soldiers.
On 17 March 1916, Bert sailed home to Australia. As fortune (or the lack thereof) would have it, Paul Dane had also been evacuated to England after contracting dysentery at Gallipoli. He had returned to Australia only a month earlier.
Upon arriving in Melbourne on 30 April, Bert joined Paul and Ruth Dane with their children at a large boarding house on the The Strand in Williamstown. He was discharged from the AIF on 9 August 1916, but not before signing a waiver to release the Defence Department from any further payment other than a military pension. This pension, of £3 per fortnight, was granted immediately.
There were a number of communications from Bert’s family trying to find news of him, but it seems that he had not attempted to contact them. It was confirmed by them, however, that their mother was, by August 1918, deceased.
For the remainder of the war, Bert toured with a Returned Soldiers Concert Party raising funds for the YMCA. He ‘…proved to be the possessor of a nice tenor voice, and when he gave 'Mary of Argyle' in response to an encore, the applause was very loud and continuous…’
The concert entertainment was seen as a novel one, representing a battlefield dug-out with the Party round a campfire. Each man, all bearing their battle-scars, indicated their battalion to loud ap-plause. As the curtain went up the soldiers sang the opening chorus of “Keep the Home Fires Burn-ing.” There wouldn’t have been a dry eye in the house.
By 1921, Bert was gaining prominence in musical circles, singing everything from sentimental ballads to opera.
During the years from 1922 to 1925, Bert lived at 193 Royal Parade in Parkville. He was said to be studying medicine and gave his occupation simply as student. He continued to sing, eventually becoming a regular singing on the 3LO radio station. This was to become his full-time occupation for the years leading up to the Second World War.
On 7 July 1941, Bert enlisted for a second time. He served as a Warrant Officer (1st Class) with the Land Headquarters. Showing the continued connection between Bert Brudenell and Paul Dane, the doctor was named as his next-of-kin.
Bert had established a long-standing connection to the University Cricket Club – he became secretary in 1939, a position he held for the rest of his life. He became a delegate to the Victorian Cricket Association in 1945, and was also secretary to the University Football Club.
By this time, Bert’s long-time mentor and friend, Paul Dane, had become one of Melbourne’s leading psychiatrists. He was one of the pioneers of psychological treatment in Australia and was instrumental in the founding of the Melbourne Institute for training psycho-analysts – the only centre of its kind in Australia. He focussed most of his work on the veterans of both World Wars.
Sadly, this remarkable man, who had served his community all his life, and who believed in second chances, died from stomach cancer on 6 October 1950.
Just over three years later, after suffering an undisclosed illness, Bert Brudenell died at the Royal Melbourne Hospital on 24 January 1954. He was just 60 years old.
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